dirty little secret
by charlotteicewolf77
Summary: Michael often wondered how Sucre had done a lot of things. How he had managed to get conjugals, how he managed to somehow get out of the secure housing unit a month early; how he had gotten Michael out of all sorts of trouble with Bellick. When he did find out the truth, he REALLY wished that he hadn't.


Dirty little secret

Summary= Michael often wondered how Sucre had done a lot of things. How he had managed to get conjugals, how he managed to somehow get out of the secure housing unit a month early; how he had gotten Michael out of all sorts of trouble with Bellick. When he did find out the truth, he REALLY wished that he hadn't.

A/N: first prison break fic, it just popped into my head. I was reading fics on AO3 and I saw a tag with Sucre/Bellick and it just sort of went from there, might be a little bit AU as I haven't watched it for a while.

~0~

Michael Schofield stared idly up at the underside of Sucre's mattress and pondered stuff that had been constantly at the back of his mind lately. Sometimes, he noticed, Sucre would disappear from the yard for a while and then come back looking upset and disturbed. He'd asked at first, but after Sucre had denied anything was wrong he had eventually stopped asking.

There had been a week before and a week after Christmas when Sucre had been utterly and totally miserable and Michael would have asked what was wrong but it had been freezing cold and all that had been in his mind was doing his P.I. work and then getting back inside the relative warmth of the prison as quickly as possible and Sucre had been writing letters to Mariacruz every day and had somehow managed to get a conjugal on _Christmas day_ which he knew many of those in Fox River would have given all four of their limbs for so he had thought that his cellmate was fine until he had looked back on that time a month later.

Now he thought about it though, there were a lot of things about Sucre that were a bit strange. Like how he had managed to get conjugals in the first place, they were only meant for married couples. And how they had been going to lock him up in the SHU for ages because of some other offence that Bellick had found out about but had somehow only got the time that he had originally been served with. Thinking about it though, that was something that should have been impossible. And all of the times that one of them was in trouble then Sucre had disappeared from the yard and the matter was suddenly dropped.

Something strange was going on, Michael thought, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

~0~

Two days later and Sucre was sad again, Michael contemplated asking him about it but knew that he would most likely be met with silence. So he turned over and fell into a sleep filled with brothers on death row and pretty prison doctors.

~0~

The thing that woke him up was the sound of retching; painful, violent dry-heaves coupled with miserable sobs. He scrubbed the sleep dust out of his eyes and sat up; looking around to see what was going on. When he spotted Sucre on his knees hugging the metal toilet he instantly scrambled out of bed and knelt down beside him, rubbing his back like his mother had used to when he was a child and how Lincoln had occasionally done when he wasn't in prison or out trying to earn money to put food in their mouths.

Eventually, his cellmate finished vomiting but the tears continued to flow. "Hey, sshh," Michael said gently, pulling him into a hug, "what's wrong?" Sucre shook his head, hiding his face in his neck.

After a while, his knees were getting bruised from kneeling on the hard concrete so he stood up and pulled Sucre up as well. He looked at the top bunk and then back at the crying man in his arms before carefully climbing onto his own bed and laid Sucre down on top of the duvet.

It was only then that he noticed the stains on his friend's trousers. "You had sex?" Michael asked, looking closer. "But what about Mariacruz?" Sucre could only cry harder and realisation dawned. "Oh my God, Sucre, you were… _raped_? Who was it?! And why didn't you tell one of the guards?!"

"Bellick," the Hispanic man sniffled.

"Jesus Christ, _Bellick_ did this to you?!" He nodded, ashamed. Suddenly, all of the jigsaw pieces and Michael could have kicked himself for not realising before now. "Bellick has been doing this to you for ages, hasn't he? That's how you got your conjugals and less time in the SHU and how we always seemed to get out of trouble. It's why you got a conjugal on Christmas day and why you always used to disappear when we were on the yard. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Please don't," Sucre sobbed.

He frowned, "Please don't, what?"

"H…hate me," he mumbled though his tears.

"I don't hate you," Michael promised him, "I don't, and you're my friend, Sucre. Just… how did you even get into it in the first place?"

The elder shrugged, "My cousin was in trouble with Bellick; I owed him one and I promised to sort it out. Then it just sort of escalated."

"Oh, _Sucre_," Michael sighed, pulling him into a hug. "It'll be ok."

"Not gonna stop him doing it."

"I'm afraid I can't do anything about that," he grimaced. And it was true, he couldn't. Not without Sucre getting in trouble for telling him in the first place.

He moved slightly and his friend clutched at his wrist, "Stay with me tonight, please? I don't want to have another nightmare."

He lay back down, "I'll stay," he promised. "I'll stay as long as you need me."


End file.
